


Grateful

by swcnsmagic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Bed, Smut, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-31 01:25:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12121509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swcnsmagic/pseuds/swcnsmagic
Summary: Emma has suffered with nightmares since she was a child. One night, Killian wakes up to her screams and things veer off the platonic path. Kinda bed-sharing, mainly just fluff. Enjoy!





	Grateful

**Author's Note:**

> I'm dedicating this to my soulmate, Maddy.  
> I am truly the luckiest person in the world to have you as my best friend and my soulmate. You inspire me every day, and you make me smile no matter what. You deserve the world and more.  
> I cried when I wrote this, more specifically the end. You'll see why. 
> 
> For everyone else, please enjoy some fluffy, friends to lovers smut!

Emma had always struggled with nightmares. The foster system and group homes fucked you up, to put it lightly. Some of the terrors came from figments of her imagination, but most of them came from things she’d genuinely experienced. Sometimes she couldn’t even remember the nightmare. She’d just wake up with a racing heart, sweat-soaked pillow and tear-stained cheeks. Her throat would be raw from screaming on occasions, though this (thankfully) didn’t occur often.

She’d learned to ground herself since she escaped the system, knowing that the dangers she lived with for years couldn’t torment her anymore.

The nightmares weren't always about the foster system, though. In her adult years, they were plagued with memories of Neal and the pain that ripped through her when he left. Memories of giving birth to her son that she never even held. Men who’d skipped bail for particularly nasty crimes nearly getting the better of her. But for some reason, things had changed in the past year.

Living in Boston by herself was a terribly lonely feat, a lifestyle not many would willingly subject themselves to. But it suited Emma just fine. All up to the point when she met, and actually had a conversation with, her neighbour.

One Killian Jones, recently arrived from London.

The two had struck up a tentative friendship in the early stages of their acquaintance. Emma was closed off, of course, but Killian was resilient, but not to the point of being obnoxious. Their friendship grew steadily over the course of a year, and Emma could finally say that she had someone to look out for her in the world. It’d been made obvious (by both parties) that this was strictly a platonic relationship, as both had previously been burned too badly to open themselves up to the potential of another bad relationship.

She told him about her orphan status and Neal. He told her about his alcoholic father and Milah. It wasn’t perfect right away. It still wasn’t perfect now. But it was pretty damn close.

Killian hated how dangerous Emma’s job as a bail bondsperson was. Emma got annoyed at Killian’s drinking habits. So they both compromised. Killian would always, where possible, be a lookout if ever Emma needed to go on a date with a perp to catch him. Emma managed to get Killian to reduce his rum intake significantly. Both knew they were acting more than platonically, but never said anything.

So as all best friends (borderline couples) do, they shared greasy takeout once a week and settled into Emma’s couch and watched a movie. This week was no different.

“You know, I always thought that I’d be a great Bond,” Emma said through a mouthful of onion rings.

“Don’t you mean Bond _girl_ , Swan?” Killian chuckled.

“Nope. They’re all too prissy. I’d be great at the secret agent gag.”

“It’s hardly a gag. Secret agents have an important role, you realise?”

“Stop reading into this too much and eat your fries, Jones.”

“Just saying, love. They’re quite vital to any country. Although, I’ve no doubt you’d look incredibly hot in a sh—”

Emma smacked him with a cushion. “You can stop with the lewd comments too.”

He smirked in reply.

* * *

 

As it was, Emma fell asleep somewhere around halfway through the movie, only stirring when Killian nudged her gently. “Swan. Emma. Wake up, darling,” came his soft, but insistent voice through the haze of sleep clouding her head.

“Movie over?” she slurred. Killian grinned.

“Aye. Sleep well, did you?”

Emma glared at him. “This week’s been a nightmare, Jones. I deserve a break.”

“And so much more,” he said quietly, almost imperceptibly.

Emma ignored the comment. “You can crash here tonight, if you want,” she offered, avoiding his response.

“I do live right next door, you realise? Like, a 5 second walk.”

She shrugged. “It’s late. You don’t have work tomorrow. I don’t have work tomorrow. Why not? Friends do it all the time.”

Killian scratched behind his ear and smiled. “Aye, I suppose they do.”

“Plus, my couch is a lot more comfortable than yours. Probably more comfortable than your bed, too.”

“Are you willing to test that theory?” he said in a low voice with eyes alight with mischief.

She snorted. “Take it or leave it, Jones. Doesn’t bother me either way.” But she really, _really_ wanted him to stay.

_She didn’t know why._

He pretended to consider her for a few seconds, before smiling back at her. “You have a good point, Swan. This sofa _is_ very comfortable. And I have the TV for the morning.”

“I’m warning you now, if you wake me up even a _minute_ before 9am, this friendship will be null and void,” Emma deadpanned.

“I find that hard to believe, love. I’m too irresistible, see?” Killian mocked. She shoved him in the chest lightly and got up from the couch.

“Night, Jones. Enjoy the couch.”

“Goodnight, Emma. Sleep well.”

* * *

 

She didn’t.

The nightmares came back that night.

Memories of group homes where there was never enough food and violence was never frowned upon and old men who tried to take advantage of you in your sleep. Flashbacks to the foster homes where the parents couldn’t give less of a shit about your well being and only took you in for the money.

She was awoken by someone calling her name insistently and shaking her gently. _“Emma? Come on, love, wake up. Damnit, Swan, wake up!”_

She sat up with a start, eyes darting around the room frantically before they landed on Killian beside her knelt on the floor. He visibly relaxed and took her hands in his, squeezing them gently.

“I’m sorry I woke you. I’m fine. Go back to sleep,” she whispered shakily. Looking at the clock, she saw it was 3:18am.

Killian looked at her sternly. “Emma, you aren’t fine. You’re shaking, you’ve been crying and you look terribly pale. Do you remember what happened?”

Emma felt herself closing up at his question. “No. I don’t remember it.”

He shook his head and sighed. “I know you’re lying, lass. But if you truly don’t wish to talk about it, I’ll leave you be. Goodnight,” he whispered.

As he was walking away, Emma yelped softly and Killian looked back to see her eyes brimming with tears. “Please don't leave me,” she choked out. Killian made his way back to kneel beside her bed quickly, but Emma shook her head and patted the other side of the mattress sheepishly. He willingly obliged, settling atop the covers and bringing Emma’s hands into his once more, noting the fact that she was still shaking.

 _It broke him_.

To see this woman reduced to nothing but a frightened girl tore at his heart.

Because he loved her.

He’d never dare to say the words aloud, not when he knew the full extent of her past and exactly why she had such high walls. He’d promised himself that he’d never again fall in love with someone after Milah, but Emma Swan hit him like a train.

He knew that his current position was a dangerous one to be in, but he couldn’t deny Emma anything, not in her state right now. And yet, he wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms and hold her reverently the way she deserved. He wanted to kiss away her tears and to encompass her in nothing but his love and devotion so she knew no more of the pain she felt every day.

“You can tell me, you know?” Killian prompted gently. _I will always listen._

“I know,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’ve just gotten used to dealing with them on my own.” She looks up with wild eyes and clamps a hand over her mouth, terrified by the information she’s just let slip. Killian brings her hand away from her face and strokes her cheek softly, relishing in the feel of her skin.

“Emma, it’s okay. If you want to leave it until another time, it’s okay.”

Biting her lip, she shook her head. “I… I want to tell you. I think? But… be patient with me? Please?”

“I have all the time in the world.” _For you_.

At his unspoken prompt, Emma began to recount her nightmare in bits and pieces. Sometimes she’d freeze up and avoid Killian’s gaze, which is when he’d just squeeze her hands in reassurance and she’d carry on. He’d wipe away stray tears even she didn’t acknowledge when she spoke of a particularly painful part of the dream, at which she’d be the one to squeeze his hands. It took them over an hour, which was filled with broken sentences and countless tears (Killian shed some too), but Emma finally told someone about her nightmare. But it was one of hundreds she’d had. Killian knew that.

“Emma?”

“Yes?”

“How long have you had nightmares for?” he asked gently.

And then she looked him directly in the eye and spoke in a deadpan tone, “For as long as I can remember.”

He broke all over again. Because for years she’d struggled silently, keeping all her fears and memories bottled up that could only be released in the form of nightmares. Killian wished with everything he had that he’d been with her from the start, been able to do something to keep the nightmares at bay. But she’d suffered alone.

“Killian? Killian, stop. You’re hurting my hands,” she said. He didn’t realise that he’d been clenching so tightly.

“Sorry, love.”

Emma looked confused. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m angry.”

“Oh… I told you to go back to sleep. I’m sorry,” she whispered, shrinking back into the mattress.

“Emma, _no_. Come here, love,” he asked, beckoning her to come and sit next to him so he could wrap his arms around her. She complied hesitantly, shifting slowly towards him. His arms went around her waist, and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

He wanted to weep at the simple act of being able to hold her so freely.

“I’m angry at the world. At myself, even. I wish I’d known you from the beginning, Swan. Then maybe you wouldn’t have to suffer so. I’m angry at the world because it did this to you. I’m angry at Neal for what the bastard did to you.” _I’m angry because I love you._

“It isn’t your fault,” she said quietly. _It’s mine,_ she thought.

“I know exactly what you’re thinking, Swan, and it is not your fault, either.”

“I want to believe that, I do. But it’s hard.”

“Then I’ll keep telling you every day until you believe me,” he promised sincerely. _Because I love you._

“Why?” Emma asked so meekly, so timidly, he couldn’t hold back his words any longer.

He pulled away and turned so he was sat in front of her. “You must know by now,” he said, almost inaudibly.

An emotion Killian couldn’t register clouded Emma’s eyes before she spoke at the same level as he.

“Know what?”

_“I’m in love with you.”_

The silence stretched out for seconds, maybe minutes, Emma simply staring back at him with glossy eyes.

“I’m sorry, Emma. I’d like it if we could remain friends, keep this friendship going, but I understand if not. I don’t want to lose you.” It was so painful to have to say those words, to know that her silence meant she didn’t love him back, but he meant it. He’d much rather have Emma as a friend than risk losing her for good.

“You… you love me?” Emma asked in disbelief.

“More than anything, I promise you.”

“Killian, you must know, too,” she said breathily. “Surely you know?”

“Emma, I don’t —”

“I love you, too.”

Killian did what he’d been wanting to do for months now. He cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers ever so softly, reverently, lovingly. The feel of her lips against hers was nothing like his imagination had conjured up.

The kiss ended too soon. They broke apart, both looking at each other with an expression akin to awe. “Emma, darling,” he breathed, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

She smiled shyly. “That all you’ve wanted to do?”

Killian grinned wickedly. “I’ve wanted more, Emma. So much more.” His smile softened to become more redolent. “Sometimes I simply longed to be able to hold you in my arms whenever we had a movie night. I wanted to be able to stroke your hair in bed. I wanted you to fall asleep with your head on my chest. I wanted to be able to make love to you in the mornings, in the evenings, in the dead of night. I want everything with you, Emma Swan. And it terrifies me. But I will gladly stick by your side through whatever life throws at us. Because you are worth everything.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before leaning back again.

“You know I’m bad at… this. At words. I just know that I love you. And that I want to try. Because this could be good, couldn’t it?” Emma stumbled over the words, but they couldn’t have been more perfect.

“Aye, my love, this could be very good indeed.” He leaned in to kiss her again, needing to know that this was real, that she really did reciprocate his affections.

The soft sigh that escaped her when their lips met made his heart soar with happiness, and elicited a contented sigh of his own. He set a languid pace, moving his hands to thread into the golden tresses he loved so much. She shifted so she was sat in his lap, and the world had never felt so right. Emma didn’t know who deepened the kiss but frankly, she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She was too wrapped up in the feel of Killian’s lips and tongue and teeth against hers. She wound her arms around his neck and rolled her hips into his, needing to be closer to him. The friction was delicious, but not what she needed.

“Killian,” she panted. “I need you.”

He looked wrecked, and she was sure she looked the same. Swollen lips, a pink tint to the skin and glassy eyes.

“Emma, I don’t want to pressure you. You deserve better, darling.”

“I promise you, I want this. I’ve wanted it for months, Killian. Please,” she begged.

“We’ll go slow,” he promised in return. When he saw Emma’s protest on her lips, he pressed a kiss to them quickly. “I’ve wanted this for months too, Emma, but I want to love you as you deserve. Let me give that to you?”

Speechless, all she could do was nod in response.

Kissing her again, Killian gently tugged on the hem of Emma’s top, and she raised her arms above her head so he could pull it off. With nothing covering her, she was completely exposed to his awe-stricken gaze. He ran his hands lightly down her sides, settling at her waist before he spoke.

“You’re so beautiful, Emma. Gods, you’re perfect,” he whispered. She felt a blush rising from her chest up to her cheeks and looked away briefly, the intensity of his words almost too much to handle. Killian noticed, gripping her chin lightly and turning her face back to him. “I mean it. You’re more gorgeous than I imagined.”

He began to place kisses down her neck, along her collarbone and across her breasts, where she gasped and melted into his mouth and rough, calloused hands. He nipped lightly, followed by soothing flicks of his tongue and Emma had never felt more adored in her life. She was writhing beneath him, desperate for more, anything she could get, and Killian sensed it.

He kissed slowly down her torso, her stomach, until he reached the waistband of her shorts and she gasped slightly at the anticipation of what he was about to do. “One thing I’ve dreamed of, darling, is tasting you. Every part of you. Will you let me, Emma? Gods, please say I can,” he pleaded.

A slight nod and a whimper was all the permission he needed. He tugged her shorts and underwear down her legs impatiently, before gripping her thighs and pulling her closer to him. Not wasting any time, he pressed the flat of his tongue against her, savouring the taste of everything Emma. She mewled and whined above him, needing more, so much more.

And, as ever, he couldn’t deny her anything. He started fucking her gently with two fingers, with his lips wrapped around her clit and sucking lightly. With his careful affections and the fact that Emma was wound so tightly, it didn’t take long for her to reach a shattering climax. White-hot pleasure burned through her veins, stars clouded her vision and she felt weightless, just floating in pure bliss. Killian brought her down slowly, letting her adjust before he was hovering above her again.

“You alright, love?” She smiled so brightly her cheeks hurt.

“That was amazing, Killian. Thank you.”

“You’re quite the vision when you fall apart,” he smiled.

Emma began to unbutton his shirt quickly, not knowing how to reply. He got the hint, sitting up and unbuckling his belt and shoving down his jeans and boxers in one swift movement, and was met with Emma’s gaze. She stroked the light dusting of hair that covered his torso lovingly, trailing her fingers down lower before he grasped her wrist lightly, tugging it away. “Another time, love. I need you.”

“I need you too,” she rasped.

“Condoms?” Killian questioned, looking towards the nightstand.

“No, it’s covered. I want to feel you,” she admitted shyly, as if she thought her confession was stupid.

“You’re bloody perfect, you know that?” Killian said in awe.

 _“I need you,”_ she said again, in a more desperate tone. He saw no signs of fear or hesitation in her eyes, saw nothing but trust and anticipation and _love_ , of all things. Love for _him_.

He slid into her easily, as easily as nothing he or she had ever experienced before. And it felt perfect. He stilled for several moments, giving her walls time to adjust and giving them both time to soak in the feeling of completion.

“Emma, love…” he trailed off, not able to find the words to describe the sensation.

“I know, Killian. I feel it too. But I need you to move,” she gasped.

Killian rocked into her slowly, gently, wanting to imprint the moment on his memory for the rest of his life. Emma wasn’t a passive partner, rocking her hips in tandem with his, meeting his thrusts with hers.

He picked up the pace as he began to feel the beginnings of his release building at the base of his spine. Emma’s breaths became shorter and heavier, and her moans grew higher in pitch before she felt waves of pleasure crashing down on her once more, drowning in the sensation. Her orgasm triggered his own; he was unable to fight it when her walls clamped down on him so tightly.

For a moment, they were both one with the stars, encompassed by sheer bliss and pleasure like they’d never known before this.

He rolled to the side of her, pressing a kiss to her hair before he went to the bathroom to grab a damp cloth. She shivered slightly as the cool fabric came into contact with her overheated skin, but relaxed into his loving touch once more. Emma held the comforter up for Killian to slip under. He did so swiftly, and then pulled her atop him with his arm around her waist.

“I truly love you, Emma. I didn’t want to at first. You and I were both enemies of love. But as time passed, I couldn’t think of anything more wonderful than loving you with everything that I am,” he said softly into the darkness, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking. “I was terrified when I realised it at first. I tried to ignore it. You know I’ve always been left when I start to feel safe. I’m not saying I’ll be perfect at this from the start, but I want to try. With you.” Killian turned her face to look at him again. “I’m grateful you chose me.”

Emma smiled, not hesitating in her reply. “I’m grateful you chose me back.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this. 
> 
> To Maddy,
> 
> I love you with all my heart. I'm grateful you chose me. 
> 
> (the last things Emma and Killian say in this? that's mine and Maddy's quote. I had to use it.)


End file.
